Dante at Claridge’s

The Rakish Gent slips into Mayfair’s most glamorous address to find downtown Manhattan spirit poured into a Martini glass.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that Claridge’s does not do things by halves. This is, after all, London’s great hotel – a temple to Mayfair grandeur where white-gloved service and the sweep of its Art Deco staircase are as much part of the experience as the dinner plates themselves. And yet, walk through the marble lobby on a brisk autumn evening and you will find something unexpected: a slice of New York, buzzing with the hum of martini hour, courtesy of Dante.

For those who know the downtown bar scene, Dante needs little introduction. Born on Macdougal Street in Greenwich Village in 1915, reinvented in recent years with a heady mix of old-world charm and modern cocktail alchemy, it has become one of New York’s most celebrated institutions. Crowned the World’s Best Bar in 2019 by 50 Best, Dante is that rare thing: an establishment that feels both nostalgic and thrillingly new. Its arrival at Claridge’s last summer was the sort of collaboration that raised eyebrows – could the easy conviviality of a Manhattan aperitivo bar translate within the polished confines of Mayfair? The answer, judging by its extension until the end of December 2025, is an emphatic yes.

This autumn, the team has doubled down, with a fall menu that leans into the season’s richness and ritual. Where summer was spritzes and terrace sipping, fall at Dante means warming cocktails, seasonal produce and, in true American style, a roast reimagined through a New York lens. The result is a dining room that feels both Mayfair-refined and downtown-relaxed, where the after-work martini merges seamlessly into long, convivial dinners.

Let us start, as Dante always does, with the drinks. At Claridge’s the bar is a gleaming tortoiseshell affair, high-gloss and handsome, perfectly pitched between old-world glamour and something of the uptown supper club. The new seasonal additions are conversation starters in their own right. The Caviar Martini is an indulgence almost too extravagant to believe: Grey Goose Altius shaken with toasted rye, white peppercorn, Dolin Blanc and bitters, topped with a shimmering dollop of caviar. It is rich, savoury, and has the theatre of an event – the sort of cocktail that anchors an evening.

Elsewhere, the Toffee Apple Manhattan brings with it the deep, caramelised warmth of autumn orchards, while Figs & Jouet is sparkling, fruit-driven and festive in spirit. Those steering clear of alcohol are not forgotten: Dante has always excelled in its zero-proof creations, and here the Espresso Shakerato and Cosmojito are clever, satisfying alternatives that don’t feel like consolation prizes. Come December, the Art Deco dining room will see the arrival of Hot Buttered Rum, Mulled Cider and a Hot Smoked Toddy – Claridge’s opulence made toasty.

And then there is Martini Hour. Every Wednesday to Saturday, from nine until midnight, the residency pays homage to the downtown tradition with mini martinis – jewel-like in their neat stemware – or full-sized classics, from the Dirty Martini to the house Espresso Martini. It is a ritual that feels inherently New York but translates perfectly to Mayfair, an invitation to linger late, soak up the room, and watch the evening sharpen into night.

If the cocktails are what draw you in, the food ensures you stay. Dante at Claridge’s has built a menu that plays on nostalgia without being enslaved to it. Yes, there are the staples – Shrimp Cocktail, Fritti Misto, the NY Strip on the bone – but the real pleasures lie in the seasonal dishes.

We began with a salad of radicchio and honeycrisp apple, dressed in a maple vinaigrette that walked the fine line between bitterness and sweetness. It was a plate that felt very Manhattan in spirit: bold, uncompromising, dressed with intent. Alongside came prosciutto with figs, a classic combination executed with clarity.

The standout starter, though, was the Pumpkin Agnolotti. Brown butter pooled silkily over the pasta, sage leaves crisped into delicate shards, hazelnuts scattered for crunch. It was indulgent yet deceptively light, a dish that reminded you of autumn nights in New York’s West Village, where the glow of candlelight softens the season’s chill.

For mains, the braised lamb with lemon polenta and parsley salad brought tenderness and depth, while Bucatini with black truffle was unapologetically rich, as it should be. The Dover sole was a lesson in restraint, letting the fish’s natural delicacy shine, while the roast dishes deserve a paragraph of their own.

Weekend dining has always been where Claridge’s excels, and with Dante in residence, the classic British roast gets a distinctly New York twist. Saturdays mean Surf & Turf, where beef fillet and lobster are paired with crisp potato rosti – a plate that feels indulgent yet celebratory. Sundays see the Roasted Herefordshire Sirloin of Beef, not with the usual trimmings, but with mac & cheese, that most American of comfort foods. It is a playful move, perhaps even a cheeky one in Mayfair, but it works. Roast beef and cheese-laden macaroni may not be traditional, but it is undeniably satisfying.

What strikes you most is how seamlessly Dante has folded into Claridge’s. On paper, the pairing might have felt incongruous: one an old-world Manhattan bar with an aperitivo soul, the other a byword for Mayfair polish. But in practice, it works beautifully. The dining room hums with a diverse crowd – Mayfair regulars rubbing shoulders with younger Londoners drawn by the bar’s reputation. There is candlelight, soft enough to flatter, and the sort of service that strikes the balance between attentive and relaxed. You can see why people linger.

The appeal is not just in the food and drink, but in the ritual of it all: martinis at the bar, a procession of plates at the table, perhaps a nightcap to finish. It is both an occasion and something that could, in theory, become routine – the mark of a residency that feels lived-in rather than contrived.

In the crowded world of London residencies and pop-ups, Dante at Claridge’s stands apart because it feels like more than a gimmick. This is not a temporary stunt but a meeting of two institutions that share a devotion to hospitality. Dante brings with it the looseness, the conviviality of New York dining. Claridge’s offers the architecture, the polish, the weight of history. Together, they have created something that is greater than the sum of its parts.

And it matters, too, because it signals something broader about London’s dining scene. That one of the world’s most iconic hotels is hosting a residency from one of New York’s most iconic bars is testament to the way the city’s appetite has evolved: more playful, more outward-looking, more willing to borrow and adapt. In a world where international travel still feels a touch precarious, the chance to have Manhattan in Mayfair feels like a gift.

Dining out in London has always been about stories as much as flavours. At Dante in Claridge’s, you get both. You get the story of a century-old New York bar reinventing itself across the Atlantic. You get the story of Claridge’s, still finding ways to surprise. And you get, crucially, a meal that is as much about conviviality as it is about cocktails and plates.

Will locals make it their regular haunt? Perhaps not in the same way as the corner bistros of Greenwich Village. But for those evenings when you want glamour without stiffness, indulgence without pretension, and the unmistakable sparkle of Manhattan in the heart of London, Dante at Claridge’s is hard to beat.

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